


A Dashed Plan

by merope001



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Auror Draco Malfoy, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friendship, Heartbreak, Idiots in Love, Loss of Identity, Love, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27759697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merope001/pseuds/merope001
Summary: The war has been over for half a decade now but all of its wounds haven't healed - some of them are only well hidden, while the others are gaping open. As the wizarding world falls back into the grind, little infarctions appear in what was considered to be solid ground. Relationships fall apart, friendships are rearranged and new allies are made in this brave new world. Unthinkable things happen - like what? Hermione Granger finding an ally in Draco Malfoy. But are they only allies? Or maybe friends? Do they qualify as anything more than that? Is Hermione ready for anything more - will she ever be after losing Ron and a piece of herself with it? And how much did the war exactly damage all of them? Is the damage salvageable at all?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	1. The end/the beginning - as you see it

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, lovelies! I am a connoisseur of everything 'Dramione' and this is my first attempt at giving back something to the fandom. I hope y'all find as much enjoyment from this fanfiction as I did in writing it. All the characters are from the 'Harry Potter' universe and all rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 1

I thought I knew what I wanted in life. I had a planned schedule for everything that I wanted to achieve in life, complete with calculations about how to get those things. My life was supposed to go according to that schedule and it was supposed to be clutter-free. My relationships were supposed to be easy, conflict-free, and fitted into perfect slots. I had no time or patience for drama in my life; they were enjoyable as long as they remained confined to the pages of the books or the screens of television. And Ron gave me exactly that - a drama-free relationship and lots of space for personal growth and achievement. He was the perfect man for me in every sense. We had known each other for the greater part of our lives and barring the initial few days of our acquaintance we had been the best of friends. Together, we complemented each other in the most wholesome way – he was the source of levity and I was the measure of seriousness, I had the drive and ambition to steer our lives ahead while he was the tether that ensured I never went overboard. He was the corner of calm in my otherwise tumultuous life. He was the one person I banked on when nothing else made sense because he was the only constant in my life other than Harry – even if he ever left, I had no doubt he would be back. And leave me he did. This was two months back and for these two months I have been waiting for him to come back – but he didn’t. And now I have come to the conclusion that he might not ever, if the front page article of The Daily Prophet was anything to go by. Half of the front page of The Prophet was covered by a moving image of Ron standing in the aisle of “Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes” with his arms around a blonde woman who was smiling up at him.

“’Mione, what are you doing?” at the sound of Ginny’s voice I looked up from the newspaper and in an attempt to quickly shove it beneath a stack of books upended the half-filled cup of coffee over it.  
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath and muttered a cleansing charm before Ginny could reach over and see the mess.  
“I was just skimming through The Prophet,” I replied to her question as I looked up to see her frowning at the picture of Ron and the woman. “Seems like Ron is dealing with our break-up much better than I am,” I said referring to the obnoxious article accompanying the picture. 

“I don’t know what is wrong with this brother of mine, looks like all the post-war glory has gone to his head and ruined it. I am sorry ‘Mione, you deserve better than this,” Ginny sighed as she flicked her wand to remove the newspaper from sight and I gave her a tight smile in gratitude. Her kindness and her absolute faith in my infallibility as a person made me guiltier about the situation than I was. I shook my head trying to dispel the line of thought that I knew would put me in a darker mood for the rest of the day and I could not afford it today. I bid Ginny a silent goodbye and proceeded to the fireplace in our tiny drawing-room to leave for the ministry.

I was an hour early for work and maybe that is why the atrium was unusually empty and so silent that I could hear my footsteps echoing as I stumbled out of the fireplace. The first sight that greeted me was the humongous statue of us – the Golden Trio – in glistening silver. I normally never spared it even a cursory glance because I didn’t like what it represented or what it meant for the three of us or the kind of history that it was linked to but today I properly looked up at it and took in its details for the first time since its installation. The statue had perfectly captured the aura of Harry and all aspects of his appearance right down to the shock of unruly black hair on his head. The likeness of Ron too was accurate in its detailing complete with his freckles and the gangly lankiness that he had in those years. But it was me that the sculptor had gotten horribly wrong. The statue captured me as I was five years back, at eighteen years of age. My hair was shorter and bushier but far from being wild, it looked fierce and unique. My shoulders were pushed back while the chin jutted like I was issuing an open challenge to everyone and anyone who dared to cross me. My expression was one of determination and resolve – now, how the sculptor managed to carve out those expressions from a piece of stone is beyond my comprehension and thus I could only admire it in awe. All in all, the woman who was immortalized in that statue was strong, determined, fierce, and also somehow indescribably compassionate in the way she carried herself. She looked like someone who had the power to bend everyone to her will and was used to achieving every single thing she was meant to achieve. She looked like a war-heroine people could look up to, admire, and respect. She was not me or maybe I was no longer her. I don’t remember exactly when I stopped being that person in the statue; stopped being the woman Ron loved enough to put his life on the line or the woman that Harry depended on or the one that I prided myself on being. I don’t remember when I ceased to be a functional part of the Golden Trio. And this statue was a reminder of that fact – it doomed me to live in my own shadow and proceeded to smother me. I desperately wanted it to be gone. 

“Admiring yourself, Granger?” I turned around to find Draco Malfoy standing a foot behind me.  
I schooled my features to betray none of my emotions before I turned to face him completely. “Not everyone is a raging narcissist like you, Malfoy. Some of us can actually appreciate art,” I sneered at him.  
To my irritation, the disgusting smirk on his face grew and he took a step forward and said, “I see you are in your usual cheery mood.” Normally, I wouldn’t be so easily irritable; normally I wouldn’t have minded his pettiness, on any other day I would have thrown a look of disdain at him and left for the elevators. But today was not one of those days. So I snarled at him, “Don’t you realize, Malfoy? Seeing you is enough to upset anyone – you, walking around with that stench of darkness is a revolting sight in itself. How do you expect anyone to be in a pleasant mood around you?”  
He flinched at the words and physically shrunk back. The mask of coldness and detached superiority crept back into his face as his posture stiffened. On any other day, I would have immediately felt bad but not today. I was angry at the invisible forces guiding my life and I desperately wanted a punching bag to vent that wrath and who better than Draco for that.  
So I continued, “Also, what makes you think that you can waltz in like that and provoke me? This isn’t the Hogwarts hallway and you do not get to throw accusations at me and walk away from it without repercussions. The tables have turned, in case you failed to recognize.”

“Granger, in the whole of England no one realizes that fact more than me. You don’t have to do the kind job of reminding me of it. Moreover, there is a difference between a conversation and provocation – it would do you well to learn that. It could also save you from getting dumped again, maybe.” This time before I could react to the offensive assumption of his, he was gone. I stood staring at the empty space he had occupied for a minute before I walked into a waiting elevator. It was already turning out to be a long day.

The work I did was at least fulfilling, these days it was the only thing that seemed to give me any semblance of solace and I was thankful for it. So it was close to midnight when I finally decided to leave my office – it was too late to avail the floo network, so I took to leaving the ministry through its muggle entrance that opened in Central London. The streets were empty, but that was expected given how cold and chilly it was around this time of the year but despite that, I walked around leisurely, I was in no hurry to go home and face Ginny. I walked around corners and past muggle cafes and restaurants – some of which were even open – before I came to stop in front of a small, homely bar. I was not a heavy drinker or even one that used alcohol as a crutch to mask the disappointments in my life, but today it felt like a pint or two of beer would only make things a little easier and so I entered the bar. It was dimly lit and sparsely furnished and even sparsely populated – it was the perfect hideout for the night. I sat at the bar and before I could order the pint of beer, I detected a redhead from the corner of my eye. I swiveled around to check if it was the one redhead that was the cause of the gaping wound in my chest. It wasn’t, thank Merlin for small blessings but that one moment of panic had set my nerves on fire. I needed to douse that fire before I could overthink about the things I had been avoiding so far. “A scotch, neat, please,” I called out.

Did I tell you that I wasn’t a heavy drinker? Well, maybe the bartender would disagree to that statement. After the fourth glass of scotch whiskey, he politely requested me to close my tab. I looked at him in irritation with half a mind to ask him to mind his business but I had exhausted my daily quota of rudeness with the blasted Malfoy so I conceded. I closed my tab and walked out into the freezing London air and weighed my options. I was kilometers away from my apartment and had to chance of reaching it without risking splinching myself, so that was out of the equation. The only other thing that I could do was walk back to the ministry and get in through the muggle entry and spend the night in my office – it was the only sensible option really. So that was what I did.

I was dreaming. I had to be because I was happy and smiling. The three of us, Harry, Ron, and I were together and like old times we were sitting around nursing Butterbeer in Three Broomsticks. I don’t know what we were talking about but whatever it was it made all the three of us roar with laughter – something I hadn’t done in a long, long while even when Ron and I had been together. I did not want to wake up but someone was shaking me and I was fast gaining consciousness. Drat! I released a long sigh with my eyes still closed and savoured the dregs of respite the dream had brought before I confronted reality. I opened my eyes to see Katie Bell peering at me from across the desk. I stared at her as the events of the previous night filtered through my brain and I realized that I must look like a complete mess if I had to go by Katie’s look of concern. 

“Hermione, did you sleep in here?” she asked me before I had fully gathered my wits and I could only nod at her.  
“You are working too hard, woman. I know you are stressed about the legislation on the ‘Ethical Use of Memory Charms’ but it doesn’t do to go about it like this. We have already perfected the position paper – it's bulletproof and I know that no matter how hard the Wizengamot questions you, they won’t be able to crack you. So, I want you to take the day off and get some proper rest. I can handle things without you today and I will give you a call if something goes wrong,” she suggested. 

I had to clear my throat before speaking, “No, Katie. It’s okay. I actually feel well-rested and once I get a cup of coffee I will be as good as new.” I also needed a change of clothes; a shower, a Pepper Up potion, and some goddamn courage to start facing things and people in my life, but Katie needn’t know that.  
“Fine. I’ll get you one and some croissants,” she said and walked out of the office. She was wrong though. I wasn’t worried about the Memory Charms legislation; in fact, it was the only thing in my life I felt remotely confident about.

I walked into the washroom attached to my office – a luxury that Department Undersecretaries possessed and freshened up as best I could with the help of some muggle makeup, deodorant, and some cleansing charms. I still looked haggard. Maybe a change of clothes would do the job. I accio’d the extra pair of clothes I kept in the office for situations like this and dressed myself to look a little more presentable. Twenty minutes and a string of curses later I looked human again. I exited the office to find a cup of coffee, a croissant, and The Daily Prophet waiting for me on my desk. The aroma of the coffee wafted into my nose and did wonders for my nervous system and the croissant made my mouth water – it was then that I realized that the last meal I had was lunch the last day. But it was the newspaper that arrested my attention – there was an image of me covering the front page. 

The image was hazy but I was clearly recognizable in it, it must have been taken late last night when I had left the bar because I looked smashed enough to have trouble staying upright. I looked positively pitiful. The headline read ‘IS THE BRIGHTEST WITCH OF OUR AGE - HEARTBROKEN?’ I cringed, this couldn’t be good. I skimmed through the page and certain words like “recent break-up”, “denial”, “depression”, “alcoholism” leaped out at me. I needed to control the damage done by this before it ended up nullifying all the work I had put in into my legislation by casting aspersions into my credibility as a Ministry employee – no one wanted a drunkard to be an Undersecretary, no one would want to pass a law drafted by such a person, even if she was the Golden Girl. But I needed help in undoing the damage and there was only one person who could be of use and it was the devil himself. 

His office was two floors beneath mine and several doors down Harry’s office. I went down in the elevator and walked quickly across the corridor, dodging several known faces on the way. I stopped right outside his door and drew a steadying breath before knocking on it.  
“What?” Malfoy snarled from inside the den and I almost turned around and went back the way I had come. But cowering from him would not do, I was better than that. I pushed the door open and entered. “Anthony, I asked –,” he started hotly and then trailed away as soon as I came into view. “Granger,” he said instead and his face lost some of its seething rage.

“Malfoy, seems like you are in a cheery mood today,” I said sheepishly. He quirked an eyebrow at that and his hand shot up to trail his lips – possibly hiding a smirk. 

“Do I detect a note of apology in there?” he asked. The audacity of this man really was something to behold. I scoffed at the assumption, “In your dreams. I have some business with you regarding the legislation.”

“Not one to dally, are you Granger? Well, I am listening,” he muttered offhandedly while straightening the papers on his table. So this was the game – nonchalance, and disinterest – who could play this better than me. 

“You see the media has been going wild with fantasies and conspiracy theories, I understand that sensationalism sells but at least it should be seen to it that such sensationalism doesn’t make it to the front page. The media as the fourth estate has a considerable responsibility should show some accountability, as should the ones in the particular business.”

“As much as I appreciate your sentiments, Granger, I fail to understand how that concerns me – I am an Auror in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. So unless you begin a formal legal proceeding against Skeeter for that beautiful article and the Wizengamot deems it fit to arrest her for tainting the image of the future Minister of Magic, I don’t see where I come in,” he finished.  
The bastard hadn’t even looked up from his work and he was making this more difficult than it needed to be. “You know perfectly well why I addressed my concerns regarding the industry to you. You happen to own fifty-one percent of the shares of The Prophet and your mother serves as the Chairperson of the Board of Directors on it. You owe it to me. Unless you want me to approach the Quibbler – you harshest rival – with a story about how Draco Malfoy uses a newspaper he owns to attack his competitor at work and maligns their image for dealing with grief in a particular. About how such an abuse of power is also in direct contravention with the statutes of right to privacy. Luna would be glad to run this, no doubt.” 

He finally looked up as I finished. Then he stared at me for a few seconds, before leaning back into his seat, then he proceeded to stare some more. An intimidation tactic, I realized. “Are you threatening me, Granger?”

I crossed my arms across my chest. “Of course not, Malfoy. I am here to discuss the possible repercussions of the article on my credibility as a legislator and its implications on the ‘Memory Charm’ legislation – that is so coveted by both our departments.”

He sighed. I just won this argument. “Fine, Granger. I will have Rita issue an apology about the insensitivity of the article in tomorrow’s edition.”

If he thought he would get off so easily, then the joke was on him. “I need a front-page article on how apologetic Skeeter is and how she invaded me on a private moment of grief. I need her to clearly state that the usage of words like ‘depressed’ and ‘alcoholic’ was from her overactive imagination and they in no are reflection of my disposition. Anything less than this and The Prophet receives a legal notice from me. And Malfoy, this is a threat.”

I turned around to leave; I knew I would get exactly this in tomorrow’s newspaper because I had the bastard by the balls. He would be risking a major lawsuit and hundreds of galleons of expenditure on account of the article if he did not comply and as far I knew Malfoy, money spoke for him, even if basic decency did not. 

“Grief, eh, Granger?” I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. The git was bringing up my break-up when I was already this furious? He must have a death wish. 

“Here I was thinking, you were drinking last night in a nondescript bar in the middle of nowhere to celebrate your freedom from the Weasel,” he said with a slimy grin on his face. He was toying with me, trying to hit on a nerve and score a point. How petty.

“Goodbye, Malfoy. It doesn’t hurt to not stick your nose in places that don’t concern you.” I walked out of his blasted office and slammed the door hard enough for the entire corridor to reverberate with the noise. Bad move. I now had the full attention of everyone on the floor and I couldn’t escape to the sanctuary of my office without at least greeting a few of these people. 

The day was turning out to be almost bearable in its mundaneness, till I got an owl from Ginny. It had a simple and short sentence from her. I read the message over and over again, desperately trying to establish it as a figment of my nightmarish imagination because this couldn’t be happening. The last good thing in my life couldn’t be snatched away this way. ‘I spoke to Ron yesterday. We need to have a conversation ‘Mione, this can’t go on. Come home’ – read the message. 

I knew my lying would one day catch up to me. I knew I couldn’t go around hiding the fact that I am a hideous monster from the people who know me so well, forever. But I had hoped that at least we could celebrate Christmas together before things blew up in my face. I love Christmas and I love spending it with the Weasley’s – a yearly tradition that makes me a little less despondent about the situation with my parents. I wanted to live it just one last time before I became a persona non grata at the Burrow. One would think it wasn’t too much to ask given that Christmas was in two weeks’ time. But apparently, not.

It was six in the evening when I left my office because I was too nervous to keep working when my mind was anywhere but at work. I had just made it till the elevators on my floor when I stopped dead in my track. A shock of red hair intruded my vision before my eyes locked into those of Ron’s. Fuck! I remember wishing to see him once again but in my imagination, we met under better circumstances and he sported a less displeased expression. 

“Hermione, we need to talk. I don’t know what sort of stories you have been spinning but this has got to stop. Can we take this to your office?” Ron brushed past me towards my office without even bothering to wait for a response and I followed him without a word – in that moment I was incapable of uttering one.


	2. Blows after blows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the characters and finer points of creation belong to the 'Harry Potter' universe and to J.K Rowling, I have no claims on them whatsoever.

Chapter 2

Ron locked the door to my office with a swish of his wand and a muttered ‘colloportus’ before sitting down on the couch in the far corner of the room. I kept standing by my desk even though I was fast approaching the stage where I would need the support of the desk behind me to keep standing.

“What did you tell Ginny, Hermione? Why did we break-up?”

Shit! Not this now. I couldn’t do this sober, the walls of the room were closing in on me – I needed to escape. “I didn’t tell her a thing, Ron. I just told her that we weren’t together anymore, she assumed the rest. I was waiting for the right time to tell her the whole story.” And that was the truth, part of it at least.

“The right time, Hermione? To tell my sister that I broke up with you because you cheated on me so that she stops looking at me like I killed kittens every time we share the same space? There isn’t a right time for that – if you could do what you did, you should have the guts to own up.”

Every word he uttered thundered against my skull. I wanted to tell him a thousand things – fall down on my knees and beg him to understand the truth – I hadn’t cheated on him, not really. But Ron refused to give me the benefit of the doubt, even that evening he had refused to even hear my side of the story. His pride was hurt and that was it for him. “Ron, please listen to me just once –,” I was cut off by a rude gesture of his hands.

“Fuck you, Hermione. You don’t get to play the victim and make me the villain in the eyes of my family after cheating on me. You have tonight’s time to tell Ginny the truth and if you fail to do so then I will make sure she and mum know the story.” Ron’s face was almost as red as his hair, he must be really angry for that to be so. 

I didn’t know what to say because he wouldn’t hear a word I had to say, Ron could be bull-headed when he chose to be, so I simply nodded my head. 

He simply got up, muttered ‘alohomora’ to unlock the door, and stepped outside but before closing it back he looked at me full and square – there was something like hurt and anger in his eyes, he looked older than he did on the previous day’s picture and at that, I wondered if interacting with me had become that tiring. “I don’t even know you anymore, Hermione.” The door closed.

I stumbled back and hit the desk. I sat at the edge of it. I was never someone to cry in the face of adversity and despair, for the simple reason that I believed it did no good to anyone. I would rather sit down and with a calm head plan my way out of the situation but I couldn’t do it today. My legs gave out from underneath me and I sank to the floor, my chest ached so much that I felt that releasing the long held-in sob might ease that pain. It didn’t, it just brought on a barrage of sobs and whimpers that increased in frequency and loudness with the seconds.

I don’t know how exactly the two of us had gotten at this point, but I now realize that we were getting to this point for quite a while now – the signs were clear as it was just that I had refused to acknowledge it. The three of us – Harry, Ron, and I had coped with the aftermath of the war in different ways, we all had collective grief and personal losses to deal with, and all of us were too buoyed down by our own selves to help out anyone else. I might have a little selfish than the two of them though, they at least chose to stick together through that phase. I chose to abandon them. I left for Hogwarts soon after the war ended to complete my seventh year and to snatch one more year of residence at the only place I could still call home. Moreover, the damage that Hogwarts sustained from the war was unthinkable and I wanted to help rebuild it – we both needed to heal. Ron and Harry had chosen to enlist into the Auror training program instead and I understood why they did so – it was their way of coping, by ensuring that the remaining of their loved ones were not in any other form of danger. In that year I studied more than I had studied in the last couple of years and I remember being so happy to be able to spend at least one school year with only academics taking up attention and without having to think about staying alive or trying to keep Harry alive. I had made the Hogwarts library my de-facto residence in those months of school. Most of the students from my year were gone and the ones that did come back were not people I could call friends. The only friend that I did have was Ginny but I did not get much time with her that year, as the Head Girl she was understandably busy, and that year she also had the additional responsibility of aiding the rebuilding process. I mostly kept to myself until I found someone in a similar predicament and got myself an unlikely ally.

Theodore Nott had always been a quiet one and maybe that was why he always slipped beneath everyone’s radar and also maybe because he projected very little of his house traits. Theo was quiet but he wasn’t shy, he was merely observant and as I later realized – calculative. This was how he had saved himself during the war, he had once said. More often than not in those months at Hogwarts, I would find myself in the library in his company. We would sit at a distance from each other and be engrossed in our own readings. The first few months we wouldn’t talk to each other or even acknowledge each other but then one day near Christmas time he initiated a conversation – I don’t remember exactly what it was about because that was inconsequential but I remember that it was stilted and awkward. I didn’t dislike Nott, I hardly knew him and I had vowed to not punish the son for the sins of the father, and by that point, the house rivalries didn’t matter – they were too petty. So I was not entirely averse to conversing with Nott, just the wee bit wary because I didn’t know what to expect even though I knew that he didn’t harbor the typical pureblood prejudices or sensibilities. The next we interacted was about a common Arithmancy assignment and it was a little less awkward. The third time it was a book that I found fascinating and wanted to discuss with someone and that conversation went indeed well because he had read and loved the book as well. Since then I found a companion in the library – our conversations were sparse and it never extended beyond the library but they were more wholesome than what I had with anyone else that year in the castle. By the end of that year, I had an unlikely ally in Theo. He still wasn’t a friend though.

After Hogwarts, I had joined Harry and Ron at the Ministry. I had been given an entry-level job in the Department of Mysteries – apparently, recent graduates had no say in which departments they’d prefer, even if they had won the country a war. Though I see no reason to complain because from there the move to the Undersecretary in the Department of Magical Coordination and Regulation was fast, but not painless. After two years in the Ministry, Ron had quit it and had gone to work in his brothers’ joke shop in Diagon Alley and he was happier in that profession than he had been as Auror. Harry though was cut out to be an Auror and he excelled in what he did, his promotions were fast and currently, he held the station of the Squad Leader. Our professional lives were on track, it was the personal equations that had gotten convoluted and taut. Ron and I had remained together those years, though I couldn’t say the same for Harry and Ginny – they never got back together after the end of the war because they felt like they needed to grow, separate from each other. They remained friends though and Harry had the same degree of welcome in the Burrow and among the Weasleys, as he had when the two had been together, I envied Harry for that fact – his association with them couldn’t be threatened by his relationship status. The decision, I daresay had suited them both, they were both happy in their own ways – but that was just what I could glean from the outside, I knew it better than anyone that sometimes things were not as they seemed.

Ron and I had moved in together in his apartment above the joke shop in Diagon Alley after he had left the Ministry. It was a cozy two-bedroom place that had a wonderful view of the place around, but the best thing about the apartment was its proximity to Flourish and Blotts – my favorite book shop. If someone had asked me even six months back how my life with Ron had been, I would have said that it was almost perfect, that I was as happy I could be, and that everything was going according to plan. And it was because I was getting all the right promotions that I needed to advance my career, I was helping the people and magical creatures I wanted to help both through my work at the ministry and through the various NGOs I was a part of, I had wonderful friends that I had weekly brunches with and I had an unobtrusive boyfriend who complemented me as a person and one who was so easy to be with. But now? I felt I needed to revaluate my perceptions and assumptions; maybe I was too blind in my selfishness to actually see what Ron felt about me or our life – his opinions. 

Through everything, though I had maintained correspondence with Theo, after Hogwarts he had moved to Bulgaria to study healing further and after the completion of the Healer training program, he had stayed there working in one of the Healing Centres there. Our conversations had grown more personal and intense over the span of time and I increasingly found that it was easier to open up to him about a lot of things than it was to, to Harry or Ginny. Maybe that was because he was not actually there so I wasn’t afraid of an overt or immediate judgment or maybe because Theo did not hold me to impossible and infallible standards like my friends here, so I wasn’t afraid of disappointing him and thereby losing him. But as my friendship with Theo grew, the ones with my friends here started seeming superficial and forced for the sake of nostalgia – and even thinking like that had me feeling guilty and like a criminal. I think it was this guilt that made me keep my growing association with Theo a secret from not only Ron but also Harry and Ginny. I also might have had another reason for keeping secrets from Ron – the war had made Ron’s insecurities more pronounced. He grew jealous very easily and most times I had no clue what would set him off. It could be something as irrelevant as someone staring at me a minute too long or something as innocuous as Harry sitting a little too close.   
It was six months back that I received a letter from Theo telling me that he was returning back to England because a vacancy for a Healer of his specialty had opened up in St. Mungos. I had mixed emotions about the news, I was of course happy for Theo and also glad about the fact that we would be meeting after almost four and a half years but I was also nervous. I was afraid that the easiness and comfort I shared with him would be gone without the letters to hide behind, but I was more worried about the repercussions of acknowledging Theo as my friend in public. I knew Harry wouldn’t be overly bothered about even though he would whine in the beginning, it was the Weasleys that scared me – anything concerning the Slytherins was not negotiable for them, they refused to see the logic. 

My premonitions about the situation proved not to be misplaced. Since his return I had met Theo only once – we had gone to a Muggle museum not far from London and had spent the time talking and admiring art and sculpture – it was the first time I had taken a leave from work in a long time. The second time that we had met was by accident, I was on a trip to Flourish and Blotts and was tucked in my favorite corner of the book store when I saw Theo walk up to my aisle looking for a particular book. He had walked up to me and we were immersed in a discussion on the use of the merpeople in water conservation policies. Ron had walked into the store looking for me then and the store manager – Gigi Thorpe had pointed him to my corner. He had walked in and seen me in conversation with Theo. That was two months ago and that was what triggered Ron to accuse me of cheating because apparently ‘Theo had me pressed up against a bookshelf, while I was giggling at his words’. That evening Ron had made his accusations and normally in situations like these I keep quiet and try and assuage his insecurities but that he had gone too far. Accusations had flung back and forth and things had gotten out of hand. When I say I am guilty of my break-up with Ron, it's not because I was actually cheating on him. It is because it was my mistake to keep my friendship with Theo a secret in the first place and allow this confusion to occur, for not being candid enough with the people who meant the world to me. It was also my fault that I reacted to Ron’s accusations in an unhelpful manner that escalated the fight between us, instead of dousing it, that I said certain things to him that had hurt him so deeply that he had very rightly refused to hear another word from my mouth – it was that what I regretted the most. But words when spoken cannot be taken back. And about Ginny? She was a sensible and fair woman but she was also Ron’s sister and at this point, it was his word against mine and my act f omission could be seen as evidence of my guilt – she would never completely believe me, even if she wanted to. And then there were the things I had told Ron that night – I deserved to be forever hated by the Weasley clan for even thinking them up. And Harry? The only person who could have been my ally had chosen to side with Ron in ‘his difficult time’, even though he claimed he sympathized with me. His sympathy did me no good though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, lovelies!! Another chapter, because the story demands to be told and the characters keep knocking about in my head and spur me into action. I sincerely hope if you liked it so far you will drop in your comments and your kudos - they go a long way in encouraging me. Thank you!!


	3. Coup de grace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the characters and location settings belong to the 'Harry Potter' universe and to J.K Rowling, I stake no claim whatsoever.

Chapter 3

I was still sitting in the middle of my office, dry sobs wracking my body when the door opened and someone walked in. I wanted to look up and see who had the impunity to enter my office without knocking but I couldn’t. I kept my gaze fixed on a spot on the carpet because I was too embarrassed to be caught out in a moment of vulnerability – whoever it was I had no intention to face them. 

A pair of shining dragon-hide shoes entered the line of my vision and a throat cleared. I looked up from my spot on the carpet and saw a green, Slytherin signet ring catch my sight. Fuck! I thought I would at least be shown the mercy of not having to face two catastrophes in one day, but apparently not. I braced myself against the floor and stood up. I brushed my skirt, smoothed my shirt, and wiped off the tear trail on my cheeks before I glanced at the bastard’s face. 

“I didn’t mean to barge in on you, Granger.” Did Draco Malfoy actually look embarrassed on my behalf? “I had knocked a couple of times but you did not respond, I was about to leave but I heard you crying and just wanted to check if things were alright. I am sorry.” 

What was I supposed to say to him? Thank you? But I wasn’t thankful to him though, I wish he had left when I didn’t respond. I couldn’t shout at him either – his gesture, though misguided was a genuine one and he did look concerned. I simply stared at him unable to decide. 

“If you are alright, Granger, I will leave. I actually came up to talk to you on a few points of the legislation on Robbard’s instruction.” He was shuffling from side to side.

“Well, um, I was just about to leave. I have something important that came up. I will call on you tomorrow?” I said while collecting my overcoat and bag from the desk. 

“Yes, sure,” he muttered before striding towards the door, and then I was alone once again.

“Nox,” I said as darkness enveloped me. I had to face Ginny no matter how difficult it was – I had to show some of the courage that Gryffindor was fabled for.

Ginny wasn’t home when I stepped through the fireplace. I didn’t know if that made it better or worse. I had some time to gather my thoughts and decide how I would broach the topic but for a worrier like me, excess of time did nothing but breed dark thoughts. I changed into my pajamas, took a shower, cleaned the drawing-room, arranged my bookshelves, cooked up a light meal, and sat down to eat it – or at least pretended to eat. That was exactly when Ginny decided to make a grand appearance, she apparated right into the opposite couch and I jumped a mile into the air.

“Shit! Ginny!” I shouted with a racing heart.

“Oh, ‘Mione. You are so jumpy,” she giggled. I rolled my eyes.

“Are you drunk?” I raised an eyebrow at Ginny. 

“No...okay, maybe a little,” she replied with a mischievous grin and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at her despite the apprehension gnawing away at me. Ginny was a wildfire that you couldn’t contain – a fiery spirit that could both burn you and give you warmth, depending on if you were on her good side or bad side. If anyone ever thought I was scary at my worst, they should be made to face Ginny at her worst – she was every bit the fierce lioness that the Gryffindors were expected to be. And every bit as protective of the people that she loved. It was this facet of Ginny that gave me a sense of security and it was also why I had sought her out after my break-up, but now it scared me the most. I took a deep breath and broached the topic. 

“Ginny, you owled me. You said we needed to have a conversation about something important. What is it?”

She was clearly more than a little drunk because she blinked at me twice before the meaning of my question hit her and the smile left her lips. “Yes. I am worried about you ‘Mione.”

“Me? What’s wrong with me?” 

“You tell me. You have been so out of character lately. It's not like you to get smashed in bars in the middle of nowhere and then get caught on camera like that, its unlike you to not come home overnight. You don’t talk to anyone these days, Harry says you haven’t received a single of his fire-calls, Katie says that for the last couple of months the conversation between you two has been only restricted to official matters, even Luna noticed something was wrong. Hell, Hermione, you don’t even talk to me these days, its like you plan your trips to the house such that we won’t meet because you want to avoid me,” Ginny said in an aggrieved tone, “ I understand it’s a difficult time for you but I can’t see you slipping away this way. I want you to tell me what’s bothering you so much and I want you to fix yourself. I just can’t see you this way.”

I saw Ginny sitting there, worried on my behalf, and felt myself break a little more. I felt terrible for not taking her into confidence – because she deserved that sort of honesty from me after everything. But I couldn’t say the words out loud to her, I knew without a doubt that if I did I would lose her forever and I couldn’t bring myself to lose the last good thing in my life. So I lied.

“It’s nothing, Ginny. And I am not avoiding anyone; I am just trying to figure out how to deal with my life without Ron in it. And the break up couldn’t have come at a worse time – I have been so swamped with the work on the Memory Charms legislation, you know how important that is to me,” I finished with a wave of my hand.

Ginny looked unconvinced but she didn’t push things further. I stood up from the couch and walked over to the entrance of my room – I needed to leave before she asked another question I had no answer to. But she called out before I could disappear into the room and I turned back. She was now half-lying on the couch and looked as if she was getting comfortable in there for the rest of the night.  
“Night, ‘Mione. When you finally decide you want to tell me the truth, I will be right here.”

I should have known that out of all the people, Ginny cannot be lied to. “Night, Ginny.”

I couldn’t sleep. For the first part of the night, I refused to let myself overthink so I lay on my back in the bed and traced the shadow that the Maple tree made on the ceiling above. For the latter half of the night, I sat up and made a list of ‘pros and cons’ of coming clean to Ginny about everything – I, of course, hadn’t forgotten Ron’s warning and he wasn’t completely incapable of following through with his threat. By daybreak, I decided that even if the cons side was substantially longer I would still talk to Ginny come morning. So brewed a cup of tea for myself and waited for her to wake up.

“Don’t tell me you spend the night on that couch,” Ginny grumbled as soon as she woke up and saw me.

“Huh, you are one to complain. No, actually I was waiting here for the past hour to talk to you. You were right, I need to come clean to you,” I tried to not let my anxiety seep through.

She smirked. “When Hermione Granger tells you that you are right, you soak up that moment and bask in its glory.”

“Ginny! I am trying to have a serious conversation here!”

“I know, I know. It’s just too early for me to be sombre yet. Let me fetch a cup of tea and then I will hear it out.”

It was exactly ten minutes before she settled back down and I started recounting the story for her.

“Just listen to me without interruption, alright? After that I will answer every question that you ask,” I began “I don’t know how to begin telling this, honestly. We broke up over a massive misunderstanding – Ron thought I was cheating on him. With Theodore Nott – ,”

“You cheated on my brother! And you lied to me saying that he left you!” Ginny jumped to her feet.

“NO! Ginny, I told Ron thought I did but it was a fucking misunderstanding! Just please listen to the whole thing before reacting!” 

I waiting till she sat down again and stopped looking like she would kill me. “Theo and I had become friends back in Hogwarts – he would simply be there whenever I went to the library, which was all the time and then over time we started discussing assignments and books, we have similar taste in academics and literature. And it was just that, Ginny, he had just been a decent companion when I was terribly alone. During that time I had no one – Harry and Ron weren’t there, you were understandably busy, so I found myself absolutely alone and it was taking a toll. Over the years we maintained correspondence through letters while he was in Bulgaria working as a healer, but again it wasn’t something worth mentioning. We simply exchanged news and bits of new research and opinion on different books that we happened to come across. But six months back, Theo came back to England. We met only once over a cup of tea. Then that day two months ago we bumped into each other at Flourish and Blotts and that was where Ron saw us talking at the corner of the shop – the corner I usually occupy to read. Now, Ginny you know how Ron has a habit of jumping to conclusions without listening to the whole story and that’s what he did. He wouldn’t listen to me and he kept labelling accusations against me. I usually understand where his insecurity comes from and I normally try to calm him down but that day I lost it – I couldn’t deal with his pettiness anymore, I just wanted him to understand me for once instead of the other way round. I said things I deeply regret, Ginny, I hurt him. I wish I could take back those words and will things into being what they were because this version of reality is infinitely worse,” I hated how my voice cracked at the end of the confession. I braved a look at Ginny and saw her frowning. She remained absolutely quiet for a frighteningly long time.

Then she cleared her throat and began, “Why did Ron think you were cheating on him if you and Nott were simply standing and talking?”

“We were standing in the corner of the store – the place I usually occupy because Theo had seen me and walked up to me. Ron saw us through the shelves, he misunderstood, Ginny. I don’t know why. But he is even uncomfortable with Harry sitting close to me and that’s ridiculous for crying out loud – Harry is literally the brother I never had!” I was getting impatient now; I thought she’d be more concerned with the things I had told Ron, not this!

Ginny looked uncomfortable with my answer – she could not disregard the ridiculousness of Ron’s behaviour in light of the new fact.

“What did you tell him that hurt him so much?”

There it was. “I called him out on his insecurities – I told him that he never really got over the fact that he left Harry and me to fend for ourselves during the Horcrux hunt, it’s his guilt over it that is driving him into the mad protectiveness that he shows. I told him that no matter what we did together afterward that I wouldn’t be able to exactly forgive him for abandoning us when we needed him the most nor would Harry, but this isn’t true. We have forgiven him long back, I don’t know why exactly I said that but I didn’t mean it. Didn’t mean any of it. I told him that he couldn’t expect people to both pity him and respect him at the same time. He accused me of treating him as a child most times, not worthy of consideration and I retorted by saying that he couldn’t act like a petulant child most times and not be expected to be treated as one,” I was getting to the most offensive part and I had to stop and steady myself “I also told him that I wished I had chosen Harry instead of him – that it was Harry who I had fallen for instead of him because then my life would have been better. I...I can’t apologize enough for even thinking that, Ginny. I didn’t mean to say it; I don’t even know where it came from. It was after this that Ron threw me out of the apartment, why he even refuses to hear of me.”

I peeked at Ginny, she was white with rage – she had her arms crossed against her chest and her hands were balled up like she was trying very hard not to fling something across the room at me. I knew I had lost her and there was nothing I could do but watch as Ginny struggled to reign in her anger and control herself enough to say something to me without cursing me to the next century. 

“He was right to have thrown you out. He was right not to want to see you ever again. You aren’t the only one who faced sorrow in the war, there are people who have gone through far worse and they still manage to retain humane qualities – unlike you. Your grief has made you vicious and it’s you who is toxic. Not him. Now get out of my flat before I hex you,” she seethed.

I walked into my room and closed the door. I couldn’t breathe – I didn’t know if my own tears were choking me or a phantom weight. I slid down the door and clutched my knees to my chest. Every part of me hurt and I briefly wondered if this was a typical case of somatization of grief. It didn’t matter – whatever the fuck it was it needed to go away or I would be hurling my guts on the floor. But my stomach was mostly empty so I managed only dry retches. I needed to get up and start packing – needed to think where I would go from here. But I couldn’t think, act or move. I just wanted to sleep; I guess the fatigue of the last few days were catching up to me. I fell sideways right where I was sitting and closed my eyes. 

An incessant hooting sound roused me from a restive slumber. I cracked open an eye open to see a large, magnificent black owl hovering outside my window. I struggled to my feet and wobbled across the room to the window and opened it. The owl swooped in, perched on my bedpost, and extended a leg towards me. A white parchment was tied to its leg with a green ribbon. The message on the parchment read – 

‘I hope you are doing well, Granger. I see you haven’t been able to turn up for work today, so we couldn’t discuss the matter about the legislation like we were supposed to – and it can’t wait, it needs immediate attention because the hearing is in less than a week. Can you make time to discuss it over dinner tonight? D.M’

Work. It was the one thing I still had, that still made me feel worthy and just basically like myself. I needed something to occupy myself tonight, so I conjured a quill to write down a ‘yes’ on the other side of his parchment – I could endure Malfoy’s presence if it meant that I wouldn’t have to live alone with my thoughts tonight. 

After Malfoy’s owl flew out I realized that I had slept through the day and that the sky was beginning to darken outside. I spent the next hour packing the sparse belongings I did have and then tidied the room to remove evidence of my existence here. Only after I saw my packed belongings on the floor did I realize that I did not have anywhere to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Your kudos and comments will be really appreciated, thank you!


	4. Seule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stake no claim on the 'Harry Potter' universe. All rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 4

The streets in Hogsmeade were empty, given that it was a wintry evening on a working day. Thank god for the small blessings for I did not have to deal with curious passers-by. I walked through the deserted lanes towards the Three Broomsticks inn – my suitcases tucked into the inside pockets of my cloak. I would put up at the inn for a couple of days while I searched for a respectable living space near the Ministry. It would be no easy task.

As I pushed open the gate the little bell hanging over the doorframe tinkled drawing the attention of Madam Rosmerta. She was behind the counter in the process of refilling her stock of beverages when she looked up to check who had come in. Apart from her, the pub was empty. I took a minute to scan the little, homely pub that had been the childhood haunt for most of us in Hogwarts and housed countless memories of a less complicated time. I sighed. 

“Miss Granger, what a pleasure it is!” Madam Rosmerta gave me a warm smile. I don’t know why but it made me breathe a little easy. 

“Good evening, Madam. It’s been a long time. How are you?”

“Yes, my dear, I miss having you three here. You were a right pleasure to watch. I am good, better than ever really,” she beamed, “Are you here for a drink?”

I shifted closer to her lest people should overhear what I had to say.

“Can I get a room to rent for a few days?”

Madam Rosmerta looked at me for a long time. She took in my face, the dark circles, luster-less hair and my randomly thrown on ensemble – I had to look like a homeless wreck. Was she wondering if I could pay for it? Maybe I should reassure her on that front. I was about to do just that when she spoke.

“Of course, dear. Follow me.” She moved out from behind the counter and led me upstairs. 

The room that I was allotted was small with a massive bed taking up most of the space and a dresser and writing table fitted into corners. But it was cozy and warm. It was all I had at the moment. I extracted the suitcases from my cloak pockets and cast an ‘engorgio’ over them before placing them on the side of the bed. I had less than forty minutes to dress up and apparate to the meeting point at Diagon Alley for the meeting with Malfoy. It was an awful lot of time. 

I flopped down on the bed and felt the exhaustion of the day settle on me, lulling me to slumber. Again. It was such a struggle to keep the eyes open that they burned with the effort and I promised myself a short fifteen minutes nap before I dressed up for the meeting. 

I was once again woken to the pecking of an owl on the window pane. I looked out to see the same black bird knocking impatiently. I quickly glanced at the timepiece on the table and it read half-past eight – I was half an hour late for the meeting. Drat! I opened the window and the bird flew in with obviously a message from Malfoy. I untied it.

“It’s highly unprofessional to stand up a fellow colleague for a work meeting. But I am in an exceptionally good mood today so I will let your tardiness slide, if you can manage to show up at La Toque, Diagon Alley within fifteen minutes of receiving the message. If not, your favour will be reversed. – D.M”

That asshole! How does he turn even normal, non-threatening conversations into open threats and games of manipulation! I needed to reach a fancy, upscale restaurant in fifteen minutes – I had no clothes and more importantly, I was in no mood. I just wanted to go back to sleep. But I couldn’t. I had to show up to ensure that The Daily Prophet wouldn’t sling any more mud at me under his directions. One less thing to worry about.

It took me a little more than fifteen minutes but I reached La Toque all the same. I was dressed in the only respectable dress I could find in the suitcase and as for the rest I couldn’t be bothered to make an effort. It was just Malfoy.

I was ushered in by the usher and was guided to the table booked under Malfoy’s name. He had reserved a table by the large French windows of the restaurant, which I am sure overlooked the empty streets beyond. He was already seated and was sipping wine when I spotted him. He looked deathly still with not even a flutter to his hands and I briefly wondered if that stillness came to him a result of his Death Eater training. But before the thought was finished he swiveled his head and our eyes met. It was awkward – I didn’t know if I should smile, frown, or simply nod. I did the latter. 

He spoke as soon as a sat down and I realized that I found to be tolerable as long as he didn’t open that mouth of his. 

“Good evening, I see you have finally decided to grace me with your presence,” he drawled.

“Cut it out, Malfoy. I didn’t intentionally stand you up, I was just caught up... in a circumstance. There was no need for the threat – that’s unprofessional,” I stated. 

“Ah, but that got you here so I’d say that it did its job. Now, what would you like to have?” he gestured at the menu before me. 

“Malfoy, I would appreciate it if we stuck to the point of this meeting and got it over with first. I am not really hungry and I have other engagements,” I answered staidly. 

“But I am hungry and I can’t very well eat without my guest doing so too. Pureblood sensibilities you see,” he smirked and beckoned to a serveur behind me. 

Of course, the bastard wouldn’t respect my wishes and would stretch this out as a form of torture. It was all an elaborate game to him after all. And of course, he would have to pepper the insult with a few discriminatory remarks. He ordered enough food to feed at least four people before turning his attention back to his wine.

I cleared my throat. He was clearly missing the point of the meeting. But he didn’t look at me.

“Malfoy, what did you want to discuss about the legislation yesterday?”

He leaned back in his seat. “It is indeed important, Granger. But please let us wait till the food arrives, I am awfully hungry.”

This man was unbelievable. “Am I supposed to twiddle my thumbs till then? Just speak already,” I huffed.

“Patience is a virtue, Granger. Moreover, I wouldn’t really mind seeing you twiddling your thumbs but we could... engage in civil conversations till then.” He looked uncharacteristically serious.  
I scoffed; such ludicrous assumptions did not deserve a reply. 

“We could try to do so at least. After all, you are friends with Nott and I am not all that different from him – in some sense.” 

My head snapped up. Malfoy was looking at me over the top of his glass. His gaze was calculating and I understood that this was a bait to make me react and spill information – or explanations. Well, he was in for a surprise; I wasn’t going to fall for it. 

“Acquaintances. We are merely acquaintances. Harry, Ginny, and Luna happen to be my friends,” I say with the same poised calm that he is emanating. 

But I wonder how he divined our connection. I don’t think Theo would go talking about me to Malfoy and I couldn’t think of another source that would know of our connection. Except for Ron. And Ginny. But they wouldn’t tell Malfoy of all people.

The food arrived just then and saved the conversation from descending into a full-fledged duel. I was just a breath away from leaving. Fuck the legislation.   
Malfoy asked the serveur to serve me the Cassoulet which was emitting an inviting aroma, it made my stomach embarrassingly grumble. That was when I realized that I hadn’t had any food in almost a day. My last meal was yesterday’s half-eaten dinner. Right then a thought struck me and I looked up at Malfoy, who was watching me intently from across the table. Could it be that he had called me for this meeting because he had somehow known that I was in the process of starving myself? Was this all a ploy to get me to have dinner? Did he actually care for other people? I shook off these absolutely ridiculous thoughts and concentrated on the meal. No, Malfoy didn’t have a single selfless bone in his body, he was incapable of caring for anyone apart from himself and if he did decide to start caring, I wouldn’t be the first on that list. I was overthinking – a result of my state of affection-starvation. After all even Madam Rosmerta’s smile made me emotional.

“Eat, Granger. Its not laced with poison.”

I glared. But I picked up the soup and dipped it into the velvety liquid. It did taste like a slice of heaven. 

We were halfway through the meal before either of us could attempt to stop eating. It was when Malfoy slid the day’s Prophet towards me. the cover page had a moving picture of me once again but this time it was a respectable one – it was taken at a previous Wizengamot hearing and I looked poised, professional, and smart in it. Just the sort of image I needed to maintain for the outside. The article accompanying it was written by Pansy Parkinson – who had joined as a journalist in The Daily Prophet and was in charge of the more serious articles. The article made corrections to the last day’s article and it included a word o apology from Skeeter as well. All in all, it was exactly what I had asked of Malfoy. So that threat was really vacuous.

I nodded my appreciation of his efforts before breaching the subject of the legislation once again. This time he sat back and spoke in detail about the issues that Robbards had directed him to talk to me about. Robbards wanted a stronger wording of the clauses that allowed for the arrest and detention-in-custody of the aggressor and wanted the clause to also allow the Ministry’s counsel to be able to bypass the due process mentioned in the Evidence Act in cases where the memory charm had been performed to the detriment of the victim to ensure that the perpetrators did not go scotts-free for lack of evidence. They were intelligent observations but I gave Malfoy my reasons for not agreeing to the changes. They made the bill too radical for the current Wizengamot to pass it. In fact, as it was, I expected a lot of opposition. But I promised that this wasn’t the end of the matter and that there would be subsequent amendments to it at an opportune time.

When we emerged out of the restaurant there was a comfortable silence between us. I didn’t know why but I felt fractionally better – maybe it was all that talk about work, it made me think of things over which I still had a semblance of control. 

We walked to the apparation point nearby and I turned towards Malfoy to bid him goodbye. 

“Goodbye, Granger. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied.

I was still in shock when I landed at the head of the alley leading up to the Three Broomsticks. Malfoy being civil or even this familiar – I couldn’t comprehend a reason behind it because I couldn’t identify his point of self-interest here. He was too eccentric as a person and that irked me. I hated mysteries that eluded me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its a delayed update but I hope the chapter makes up for the hiatus. Enjoy!


	5. Strength

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no claims on any of the characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and to the 'Harry Potter' universe.

Chapter 5

It took me two weeks to find a respectable apartment in a not-shady area which was within my budget. And then it took me two days to get settled in said apartment. So after sixteen odd days, my life was not miraculously better but at least I had a home to call my own. It was a tiny apartment – with two rooms and a fairly large sitting room – but since I did not own a plethora of stuff it all fit perfectly into their designated places. I felt a lot lighter than I had felt in months.

The days that followed my shift to the new apartment were exhausting and uneventful – I continued to exist in a sort of isolationist bubble because my friends still refused to talk to me and the times that I did happen to come across Harry in the Ministry he was extremely skittish and awkward. It was safe to assume that I had lost the only remaining people who I had cared about and who had cared about me. This realization weighed heavily on me and it seemed like an interminable amount of time stretched ahead of me – a time in which I would have no one to save me from myself. I tried not to think about this most of the time because it immobilized me with fear but it was the quiet nights and the oppressive darkness that would drag me down into the murky water of self-pity, guilt, and despair. In the mornings though, I worked on the Bill that had become the sole reason of my existence now. 

The Bill was in its last stages of formulation and was scheduled to be presented in a few days’ time to the Wizengamot but it was an inter-departmental endeavour – the majority of the work was done by my department but there were certain issues that concerned the MLE and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes – so now we were mandated to hold tri-partite meetings till the day of hearing. The board consisted of the Undersecretaries of the Department of Magical Charms and that of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and the personal assistants of the Undersecretaries. From the MLE though the head of the Aurors was coming, which was Gawain Robbards at the moment and any one of the Aurors that he chose. The six of us were supposed to set up office in one of the conference rooms. 

I was early as I entered the designated room and set up my stuff at a place of my choosing, Katie came in soon after followed by the Undersecretary of DMAC and his secretary – Daniel Rodgers and Andrea Benton. The four of us had already settled in and commenced work when Robbards walked into the room with Malfoy right behind him. I was surprised, to say the least, that Robbards would choose Malfoy to be part of his delegation given that the former did not hold the latter in very high regards for obvious reasons and as far as I knew Malfoy himself was not well-disposed towards Robbards, after all, it was him who had been responsible for arresting Lucius Malfoy. But the choice made sense at some level, Malfoy was the best versed with the nuances of the Bill and one could say that he almost took a personal interest in its proceedings. The only problem was that I was not overly thrilled to be working with Malfoy for the days to come. After the dinner-meeting few weeks back I had felt like we had reached some sort of an impasse where it was understood that neither of us liked each other but we could at least maintain the garb of formality and civility if we had to for mutual benefit, I would say that I had gone to the extent of doubting that Malfoy might, after all, have some humane side to him – explored or not. But the events of the intervening weeks had proven this to be a misconception – he had reverted to his obnoxious, nosy previous self dropping questions about my personal life here and there, obviously meant to embarrass and harass me. I was not at all thrilled to have him at the conference.

“Good morning, everyone. Apologies for the delay,” Malfoy announced as he set down a tray filled with six cups of tea, sugar, and milk that he had levitated into the room.  
Everyone murmured their greetings to him before lifting a cup each for themselves. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Katie hesitating before she gave in and lifted a cup off the tray and brought it before her. I did not blame her, in fact, I more than understood where came from. The war was over but the scars left behind it remained, a lot of us had irrevocably changed after the war – some for the good, apparently like Malfoy had and some for the worse like I definitely have but I don’t think neither of us will ever be able to run away from the people that we had been and the things we had done and the memories that we had created for ourselves and for others – it was our cross to bear for the rest of our lives. Malfoy, no matter how deeply he had changed would always have to face the consequences of who he had been and suffer for what he had done, on the other side I was doomed to live in the shadows of the person I had been but no more have the strength to continue to be now as well – we will both be judged against what we had been, and no one will quite ever accept us as the people that we happen to be now. This realization made me look up at Malfoy and I found him already looking at me. There was something in his eyes that was very unlike the man I thought I knew, it was probably a moment of vulnerability that I had glimpsed upon because his eyes reflected the hurt that I had been carrying inside me for a long time now. There was the same restless need to break away from the shadows of the past. The look in his eyes was gone before I could blink and he was the first person to look away. A thought popped into my mind right then, a thought that was entirely misplaced and inappropriate – maybe Malfoy and I weren’t as different as we both liked to believe. 

I cleared my throat and called everyone to order – by virtue of my department having the lion’s share of the stake, I was the designated chairperson. We worked mostly in silence till lunch when Robbards interrupted us with his announcement that he needed to leave for the day because of some emergency in the Auror office. Malfoy stayed behind.

“Ms. Granger, I am going downstairs for lunch. Should I get something for you or will you join us?” Andrea asked.

“Thank you, Andrea, I have packed lunch with me,” I said gesturing to my satchel on the chair beside me. She nodded at me and left with Daniel.

“Katie, please go and have your lunch. We don’t have a lot of work left anyway,” I swiveled around on the chair to look at Katie.

“Hermione, you need to eat too. Let’s go together,” she beseeched.

I hated disappointing Katie and rejecting her offer, because one could say that she was the closest person to me these days and she genuinely cared about my wellbeing but I couldn’t go out to lunch with her. I couldn’t interact with her in a non-professional space because then I would be obliged to talk about my life outside of the office with her because I wouldn’t have any excuse not to and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lay open my festering wounds in front of everyone and stand at the altar of judgment.

“Katie, I really have gotten myself lunch. We will go out tomorrow for sure,” I squeezed her hand in apology and smile – hoping that she wouldn’t be too offended.

“Okay, then” Katie sighed and stood up. 

As soon as Katie left and the door closed behind her I looked back at the papers laid before me. 

“You lied,” Malfoy pushed back from the table and stretched.

My head shot up in surprise before I could decide that I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of being right. 

I looked at him pointedly. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed. Actually laughed – a booming, mirthful laugh – at my expense. And I stared at him because I had never seen Malfoy laugh at anything or anyone ever – I had seen him sneer and smirk and grin even but never laugh in the unabashed way that he laughed now. It wasn’t that unpleasant a sight even I would have to admit. It humanized him. But that laugh was at my expense I reminded myself and averted my eyes, ignoring him. 

“You have everyone fooled, Granger but not me. I am trained to detect the slightest tremors in one’s voice and the smallest of the gestures that are humanly possible – both as an ex-Deatheater and as an Auror, so you are as readable as an open book for me,” Malfoy chuckled.

It unsettled me to hear him refer to his past so causally – I couldn’t exactly figure out if it was done out of spite to make me uncomfortable or if he genuinely was at ease with who he had been. 

“Again, lies or no I don’t see how that is your business, Malfoy. If you want to step out for lunch though, you are more than welcome.” I didn’t bother looking up at him.

“You need to eat something, Granger – this whole ‘woe-is-me-I-am-trying-to-waste-away-into-a-wisp-of-air’ act doesn’t suit you.”

I gripped the quill in my hand with a mounting force – how dare he intrude into my life and try and label me without having any idea what I was going through. How dare he!

“Malfoy – ”

“No, listen Granger. I know you think I am overstepping the mark, that I am intruding and maybe I am but you need to hear this – I don’t know what happened between you and that Weasel or the she-Weasel or Potter and why suddenly after everything you are more of an enemy to them than I am but you cannot mope around, this isn’t the end of the world or of your life. I have seen you writhing on my drawing-room carpet, being tortured by a deranged witch and I saw how resilient you were and I envied you – your courage, your strength. So fucking get a grip on yourself!” Malfoy was shouting by the end of that speech and I was immobilized. 

He heaved and leaned against the wall on the other side of the room. I blinked. It had to be really really bad if even Malfoy noticed it – if he was standing here telling me whatever he did. I did not need Malfoy to be patronizing towards me, I did not need to give him any more ammunition against me than he already had. 

I pinned him with the coldest glare I could conjure. “I have no idea what you have cooked up in that head of yours, Malfoy. You clearly have too much free time at DMLE – I have to ask Robbards to remedy that. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

I stood up and walked out of the room, leaving an enraged Malfoy behind. I couldn’t care less. But that bastard was right I couldn’t let myself wither away. I wouldn’t let myself wither away. I wouldn’t be the object of anyone’s pity. I stood a little straighter as I took the elevator to the floor of the Ministry canteen – I was hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I have been slightly erratic lately - I had been dealing with a hectic exam schedule this long. But its over and I will be returning to the usual weekend updates from this week (or I could even surprise you with ones in the middle of the week). Thank you!


	6. Baby Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no claims on the elements of the 'Harry Potter' universe, all rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 6

Malfoy didn’t talk to me for the next couple of days – I wasn’t at all guilty about it. Why would I be? It was his fault; he shouldn’t have overstepped the mark. But I couldn’t help this niggling feeling that had that conversation not happened then I would probably not have regained the shred of self-respect and stubbornness that I have – it felt like a wake-up call that I needed but didn’t necessary want or appreciate. Anyway, there was no way I would apologize to him. 

Another good thing that did come out of the altercation was that Malfoy had stopped his snide comments and overly intrusive questions. He was almost like he used to be when he had first come to the Ministry – cold and withdrawn. He spoke only when he was directly spoken to. I wasn’t complaining about this development, it was a respite.

The Bill was in its absolute last stage when we decided that we had committed one very transgressive lapse in our research. The issue of Memory Charms was an extremely nuanced issue, one that required several different disciplines to work together and we had considered all of the actors in the phenomenon except the medical sector. We desperately needed a Healer to consult with – preferably one that specialized in this field and one who would be available at the earliest. There being a dearth of such specialized Healers it was understandable that we did not have a plethora of choices to choose from and most of the Healers who we had contacted were engaged elsewhere. So it was under extreme compulsion that I contacted Theo. I owled him with a plea and it took him only thirty minutes to reply affirmatively to the proposal of helping us.

Theo joined us at the conference room the next day. His presence drew varied responses from everyone. Robbards and Daniel looked relieved to have him there, Andrea and Katie greeted him with the warmest smile I had ever seen either of them sport and Malfoy was exceptionally cold towards him, which was surprising given the fact that the two of them had been thick while in Hogwarts.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Theo greeted smoothly.

I stood up to greet him and offered him the chair beside me, “Thank you for helping us at such short notice, Theo. This means a lot to all of us.”

I saw the others nod in acknowledgment of my admission – except Malfoy. I would never be able to understand what the deal is with him. 

Theo took the designated seat and I proceeded to explain the intricacies of the Bill to him.

It was like the old times when we used to sit in a corner of the Hogwarts library and discuss a topic that we were both interested in – there was the same sense of comfort and belonging that I had felt in those tumultuous months of my life. As we discussed one clause after another and bounced opinions and theories and possibilities off each other I realized why Theo had come to mean so much to me in the years since Hogwarts – he always accepted me the way I am without holding me to impossible standards. To him, I was not the ‘Golden Girl – Saviour of the Wizarding World’ but simply Hermione Granger, his unlikely friend. He humanized me in a way that I had never been humanized since I had entered into this world of magic. For years before the war, I was the lesser being, not worthy of consideration or regard, the one that people sometimes looked at with pity, surprise, or disgust depending on who they were. After the war I was catapulted to the position of a superior entity, one that inspired awe, veneration, and fear; one that people considered infallible – both these perceptions weighed heavily on me in different ways. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had been the only other people who had made me feel the way Theo makes me feel but that was before the war inflicted irreparable damage to all of us – we definitely won the war, we also saved the world that we called home but it all came at a price, we each had to give up something that was precious and in the process, we changed in an irrevocable way. Now when I think back and consider the line of events that befell us since the war I realize that maybe one of the latent prices of victory was our friendship. Harry and Ron did not go back to being what they had been in school, Ron and I tried to sustain the friendship and love between us but of course we know how well that worked out. Ginny and I grew closer over the years but there too many things that we couldn’t talk to each other about. Harry and Ginny broke apart and never quite found their way back to each other again. The Weasleys coped with their loss in different ways but they never really became the fountain of joy that they had been. Harry and I tried very hard to save what we had between us but somewhere down the road it withered and died, I don’t know who was responsible for its death. Our get-togethers and weekly brunches were overt attempts to hold onto something that we each had loved but lost. 

A light touch on my forearm broke my reverie. I flinched and retracted my arm. I turned to see Theo frowning at me. 

I smiled at him to cover it up and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Theo, would you like to go get lunch?”

His frown deepened at my obvious attempt to distract him but he relented. That was one more thing I admired about Theo – he never pushed. 

“Yes, lets go. I am starving.” He grinned and then stretched his limbs. 

I looked around to see everyone around the table staring at us. Katie was openly gawking and Malfoy, for some reason, was glaring. Then it dawned on me that since we had started working together I had never once gone to lunch with the others, not even Katie, I always grabbed a quick bite alone. So this was new for everyone, including me. I looked away from everyone, bid them a hasty goodbye, and walked away with Theo following me. 

We ate at a small cafe round the corner from the Ministry. It was an Indian cafe that served some delicious food which I have grown to love over the years, despite the spice or maybe because of it. I was surprised to find Theo sharing my appreciation for the food. Theo was not an overly expressive man, he mostly came off as a reserved and curt man but there were a few things that could make the man blabber like a teenager, and food was one of them. He was a good cook himself and he loved a variety of cuisines. It was a pleasure indeed to have him gushing over the dishes and how they were made or how he would like to improvise. I knew that if I let him he would keep talking about it for hours – the twinkle in his eyes gave that away.

I studied him while he chattered – he was handsome in a sublime manner, there was nothing flashy about his brown hair and brown eyes, his features were sharp but nothing extraordinary but the parts added up to an attractive whole. Theo had a rather stringy physique till the sixth year but after that, he had slowly begun to fill out, and now before me sat a man who was tall and lean yet not too thin. Theo was definitely attractive – maybe not as blatantly as Malfoy or as unconventionally as Harry but there was a unique charm to him. 

I was having a good time – in addition to eating good food, I had laughed twice in the short while, which was more than the number of times I had laughed in the last four months or so. The world seemed a little less dull that afternoon and it was enough for me.

“Hermione, can I ask you something?” Theo looked at me with cautious eyes.

I considered it for a minute before I nodded my head slowly.

He shifted in his seat. “Hermione, why did you flinch when I touched your arm earlier?”

My breath hitched. Shit! I should have known he would ask me this. I resolutely didn’t want to talk about the scar that Bellatrix had given me. I always wore clothes that covered the scar from others as well as my own eyes because I couldn’t face the reminder that the night that left on my body. No one other than Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Malfoy knew about it and I wanted to keep it that way.

“Um, I just have a bruise there. Nothing serious, but when touched it aches.” I shrugged trying to get him to move on.

“Let me have a look at it, I can help.”

God, why was he being so persistent? “No, it's okay Theo. I know enough Healing Spells to take care of such a minor injury. Thank you”

Theo looked unconvinced but I knew he wouldn’t push me any further given the tone of voice that I had used. He understood that the matter was closed for discussion.  
“Alright. Do you want to try the dessert here?”

I smiled, I loved the ‘kheer' that they served here. “Yes! The ‘kheer’ – a kind of pudding – that they serve here is to die for, I swear.”

Theo laughed and beckoned the server to order the dish.

We went back just as the others were returning and I received the same bewildered glances from my colleagues that I had received earlier – if they were so surprised to see me in a good mood and smiling, then I really had to analyze the kind of person I had been the last few months. I sighed, I indeed had let it go too far – Malfoy hadn’t been too far from the truth the other day.

When we went back to the conference room Malfoy was still seated at his usual place going over a sheaf of documents. It didn’t look like he had gone down to eat. As we entered he leveled a glare at Theo as his jaws stiffened and nostrils flared. He hadn’t been too pleased about Theo consulting with us in the first place and had been very cold in his greeting to Theo today, but now he seemed outright resentful of the latter’s presence and it confused me – they had been good friends in school and known each other longer than they knew anyone else, so I couldn’t fathom the reason for this bitterness.   
Malfoy turned his enraged eyes towards me and said, “Granger, I need to be excused for the remainder of the day today, I have some contingencies at home – I was waiting for you to come back from your date so that I could leave.”

It was the first time Malfoy had directly addressed me since I had dismissed him during our last conversation and he was still being an ass. But I was not going to take the bait and react.

I matched his glare with my own. “You are exempted today, but I expect you to be the one to draft in the new proposals Theo will be giving us. I will need the revised draft before Saturday evening, which means you have three days to do it.”

Malfoy opened his mouth to retort, and then snapped it shut – smart of him. Malfoy was fuming and I couldn’t say I wasn’t taking pleasure in it. It was time he understood that here I was the boss of him. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Malfoy said tightly and got up. He had packed and left before we could even sit down and settle. I gloated just a little at his obvious displeasure.

We went back to work and the rest of the day was supremely peaceful. But there were some questions that burned in my mind and I couldn’t figure out the answers to them – like what the matter was between Theo and Malfoy?


	7. Almost-A-Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no claims on the elements of the 'Harry Potter' universe, all rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 7

It had been weeks, months even since I have had good look at myself in the mirror – I mostly avoided it because I was afraid of what I would see if I looked at it too long. But today I had mustered enough strength to do just that. The woman who stared back at me was everything that one shouldn’t be – dull, withered, emaciated, tired, and broken. I traced the dark circles under my eyes, felt the bones sticking out from under the flesh, touched my limp hair, and shuddered – it was difficult to look at what I had done to myself. As I stared at my reflection I understood several things that had been happening around me. I understood why people dealt with me in a guarded and wary manner – not the sort that was born out of respect or fear but the sort of caution that you exercised when dealing with a cornered animal. I understood the look of concern in Theo’s eyes, the overprotectiveness of Katie, and even Malfoy’s rant. 

In the sixth year, I remember, Malfoy looking like death warmed up when he had been working to restore the Vanishing Cabinet and his condition had inspired concern even in me – someone who hated him with a vengeance. So, maybe Malfoy did speak to me out of a sense of concern the other day and maybe I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. His words had affected me more than I had let on, it had ignited the stubborn streak in me that pushed me out of the melancholia that I had wrapped around myself – it might also have been exactly the thing I needed. Who knew I would one day be contemplating thanking Malfoy for helping me?

It was a quiet Friday evening, one in which I was home earlier than ever. I looked through the tiny window my apartment was equipped with and saw the magical fairy lights adorning the streets below, the houses across the street were already decking up for Christmas and the air had the sweetened smell of baked cakes and freshly poured wine. Christmas had always been my favourite time of the year and I always made sure that I celebrated it no matter where I was and what situation I was in – I had made sure that we acknowledged the passage of Christmas even in the midst of the war. It was the time of the year when I missed my parents with a renewed fervor. With Christmas coming upon us in a couple of days I desperately wanted to break free from the gloom of the apartment and the rigours of solitude. For a moment I even contemplated owling Harry or Luna but thought better of it. I decided that I would go out and celebrate the evening by myself – a time like this shouldn’t be wasted.   
It had been months since I cared what I wore, so it’s pathetically obvious that my wardrobe was in a dismal state of neglect that would have made Ginny cluck her tongue in disapproval. I scourged the few festive-ish outfits I could manage to find and laid them upon a bed. The choice was between a plum, knee-length, off-shoulder dress and a black halter neck one. The plum dress was the unequivocal choice and I tried to buff up my emaciated body and limp hair with the few Beauty Charms that I knew, as best as I could but it wasn’t good enough – this sort of task was usually Ginny’s forte. 

I think I looked decent enough in the dress, a pair of heeled boots, and a plain black cape coat when I finally stepped out. The night really was beautiful and it instantly lifted my spirits. I stood by the entrance to my apartment and considered where to go for a minute – I had no particular destination in mind but it had been so long since I had bought a book for myself. So I apparated to Diagon Alley. 

The Alley was bustling with people, all having stepped out either to enjoy the night or to complete their last-minute shopping for Christmas – which reminded me that even I had to buy gifts for Katie, Theo, and Luna, and maybe even Harry and the Weasleys – one could hope, right? I thought of going into Flourish and Blotts but I thought better of it after noticing the queue of people wounding from the threshold of the shop to the street corner. I kept walking past it and entered into a more obscure part of the Alley that was partially hidden from sight, in here there was another book shop that was not as well-stocked as Flourish and Blotts or as big but for tonight it would be the perfect refuge. I walked past a couple of shops and entered Weatherington’s Book Shop. It was mostly empty and hence ideal for me. 

The smell of parchment floated around me and enveloped me in a comforting embrace, I caressed the spine of the books on display and felt a familiar sense of belonging that I had so longed to feel in the last many months. I picked a book from the shelf and flipped it open – it was on the Goblin Revolutions, something I had read a dozen times already but it didn’t matter, the satisfaction of being weighed down by the heft of a book was pleasure enough.

“You are smiling,” a voice wafted down the aisle. 

I turned around to find Malfoy leaning on a shelf a few feet away from me. 

“Yes. Cant I?”

“Of course, you can but you just don’t. I haven’t seen you smile in a long time, Granger.”

I gulped. He was right, once again. What was it with Malfoy and his recent habit of turning out to be unexpectedly right? 

“I didn’t know you noticed such things.” I turned back to face the books on the shelf before me.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw him take a step towards me. “I thought we had established the fact that I am keenly observant.”

That he was, even I had to admit. “Did we now?”

He smirked but said nothing.

“The Goblin Revolution, really? I thought you must have read it a couple of times at least, already.” He leaned in, peeking under the book to see the title.

I huffed. “A dozen times – I have read it a dozen times. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” I muttered.

A booming laugh erupted from him and it surprised me into glancing at him. Malfoy was clutching his stomach and laughing. I frowned. It wasn’t that funny, was it?

“Granger, that is the most Granger-ish thing you have said since ages. Of course, you have read it a dozen times and you will read it for the thirteenth time now.”

My lips quirked as I glanced back at the book in my hand. 

We spent the next few minutes in companionable silence reading our respective books. But there was something I needed to say – something that had been niggling my conscience for a few days now.   
“Malfoy, I had to apologize to you about the other day.”

He looked up at me and blinked before I saw the realization of what I was saying dawning upon him. His jaws immediately stiffened and the grey eyes hardened. I regretted bringing this up at all seeing the reaction it warranted. I acknowledge the fact that I had been unnecessarily rude towards him when he was trying to be helpful, something so out of his character but it wasn’t the first time we had exchanged spiteful words between us and it had never really drawn such reactions from him. He usually gave it back as good as he received it. It was the one thing about Malfoy that hadn’t changed. So his reaction threw me off. 

“You don’t need to apologize for it, Granger. I...uh know it’s not easy to realize that you are going down the dark hole, people need outside intervention to make them stop the process of self-destruction and help them jerk out of the process altogether. I understand.” 

He looked into my eyes and I saw vulnerability in them as if saying those few words had cost him greatly. And maybe it did. I understood what he was talking about – Malfoy from the sixth year flashed before my eyes – back then even he had needed help, even he had wanted someone to stop him and show him that he was on the path to destruction, maybe he even had wanted someone to pull him out of it because he couldn’t pull himself out of the quagmire? Malfoy wasn’t evil – I knew that. I think I had always known that even when he went around calling me a Mudblood and wreaking havoc in my life and that of my friends, I suspect that even Harry was always aware of that, it had to be why he saved Malfoy from the Fiendfyre that day and it was also why Malfoy refused to identify Harry the night in the Malfoy Manor. He wasn’t evil; he just needed a choice and a reason to be more than what he was taught to be. I almost reached out to touch Malfoy and convey my realization to him but I caught myself in time. 

“Thank you, Malfoy. I mean it. I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear what you said until you said it,” I whispered.

“Let me savour this moment. The Hermione Granger is apologizing to me and thanking me within the same hour – this calls for a celebration. I should send an owl to Pansy to come and cover this.”

I snorted with laughter; trust Malfoy to never cease to be obnoxious. 

“Don’t push your luck, Malfoy.”

He chuckled.

I moved around the shop looking at all genres of books and collecting the ones I intended to buy in a wicker basket conjured by the shop assistant. All the while, Malfoy had stuck to the same corner of the shop, reading the same book. By the time I finished my tour of the shop I had gathered a total of eight books that I wished to purchase. I placed all of them on the counter to be checked out when Malfoy joined me on the counter with the singular purchase of his.

“Do you have a bustling social calendar, Granger?”

The arse just could not keep his nose out of other’s business. I glared at him in reply.

“Hmm, I thought so. Incidentally, I am free for the night as well. Do you want to grab dinner? It’s too beautiful a night to be dining alone.”

My plans did include a solitary dinner, it wasn’t the ideal situation but it was the only choice I had. Now, it was difficult to assess if dinner with Malfoy was worse than a solitary dinner not. The latter would afford me quiet and peace, the former would ensure me a company that wasn’t...entirely disgusting.

“I guess I could suffer through another dinner with you. But I will choose the restaurant this time around.”

I wouldn’t let Malfoy pay for the meal and I wouldn’t be able to afford the food in the kind of places he usually frequents after the way I had splurged over the evening. 

“Alright,” he agreed but his expression remained wary, I almost laughed at that – did the man think I was going to poison him? But then again given our history it wouldn’t be such a farfetched idea.

We walked out of Weatherington’s together and stepped into the crowded part of the Alley. People turned and stared at us – because in the English Wizarding World seeing Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy walking together is somewhat like finding a Manticore – surprising and rare. I looked up at Malfoy, trying to gauge what his reaction to this might be but I only encountered a stoic face – one which showed no traces of the humour or vulnerability that I had glimpsed inside the quaint shop; as if like the two men were absolutely separate beings. 

It took up fifteen minutes to navigate through the crowded alley and reach the Apparation point. I wanted to eat at a Muggle Cafe near where the house of my parents was located – the restaurant had a special significance for me during this time of the year and in addition to that, the food was delicious and not too expensive. I extended my arm for Malfoy to take so that we could side-along to the required destination. 

He quirked an eyebrow at me but took my arm wordlessly. We disappeared with a pop.


	8. Almost-A-Friend (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make no claims on the elements of the 'Harry Potter' universe, all rights belong to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 8

Malfoy stumbled a bit before he regained his balance. Then he looked around himself and frowned.

It was a Muggle neighbourhood and was decked up Christmas in the Muggle manner but it was breathtaking all the same. I had missed the familiarity of my childhood neighbourhood, I realized. I waited for Malfoy to make a snide remark about the place with bated breath – that would be the moment I would walk away. 

“Isn’t this where you used to live?” he asked in a cautious tone. 

I blinked at him in surprise. How did he – 

I gasped. “You came here,” I whispered. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say after this. It felt like all the air in the world had been sucked away – I couldn’t breathe.

Something flickered in his gaze – maybe shame or guilt? I couldn’t be sure. 

“Yes. We had been ordered to hunt down your families soon after the three of you disappeared. But you had already seen that coming.”

I had to sit somewhere before my legs gave out, but there wasn’t even something around that I could lean on. 

“Who all came here?”

He bowed his head and sighed. But he didn’t answer it for a long time. When he spoke his voice was unusually heavy and quiet.

“Dolohov, Greyback, Father, and I.”

I shivered. Greyback had been sent to hunt down my parents. For a moment I let my mind wander, I thought of the night the three of us had been captured by the snatchers, the night of the Battle of Hogwarts and I thought of the monster that Greyback – who rejoiced in killing and torturing people, especially Muggles and Muggleborn – I thought what would have happened had they found my parents in the house and I felt bile rise up in my throat. 

I felt a hand under my elbow. I looked up to see Malfoy holding me up against his body. 

“You were precariously swaying,” he explained.

I nodded and righted myself.

The idea of eating did not seem inviting anymore, in fact, I wanted to be home and in bed right now. I was about to voice that thought when Malfoy broke in.

“I am glad you did what you had to do to your parents, Granger. It saved their lives. In fact, that was the only way you could have protected them against the Dark Lord – the only thing he couldn’t break or undo, the only thing against which he had no weapon.”

I turned around to find Malfoy standing too close to me. 

“You are glad? You did not want them to be killed? They were simple Muggles – parents of the hated Mudblood.”

Malfoy flinched and shrunk back from me as if I had physically assaulted him.

“Granger...Hermione, I did not want to kill your parents. I had come to hunt them because I was ordered to do so and there was no way for me to disobey the Dark Lord without inviting his wrath upon my Mother – something I couldn’t let happen and hence I did whatever it took to prevent it, but I was hoping against hope that you had used that ginormous brain of yours to save them somehow. I will make no excuses for my actions, nor can I tell you what I would have done if they, indeed, had been at home but I can tell you that I did not want to cause the deaths that I did cause.”

I had one burning question that I needed to be answered if I was to believe that the man was really honest.

“But you did hate me, didn’t you, because of my blood status? You were prejudiced against our lot, weren’t you? There was a time when you, indeed, wanted Voldemort to rise again, wasn’t it?”

I heard his swift intake of breath.

“I did hate you – initially because I was taught to and later, well, because you always managed to best me. I was prejudiced and I am not making excuses about it but I never wanted to be the cause of the death of innocent people – even I understood the irrationality and heinousness of the crimes committed by the Dark Lord. Serving the Dark Lord was hardly a matter of pleasure, Granger, the horrors I was subjected to still keep me awake at night – I was simply trying to survive the best I could. Defection was a luxury that I did not possess, not even that night on the Astronomy Tower.”

I looked into his eyes, my mum used to say that a person could be lying through their words and even through their body language but never through their eyes. His eyes were earnest and reflected a sort of pain that only those who have seen and lived through true horrors can know. I believed him. 

I looked around us and I realized for the first time how odd it was. We were standing in the middle of pre-Christmas festivities and talking about some of the darkest pats of our lives – but instead of being weighed down by the conversation I felt strangely liberated, like a part of me that had been warring with itself till now had finally been put to rest. I couldn’t figure out what had changed. 

“Let’s go and eat. I am hungry,” I say as I nudge Malfoy towards the cafe of my choice.

If the sudden turn of the mood bothered him, Malfoy did not let it show. He followed me quietly into the cafe.

Between the two of us, we had ordered a hearty meal consisting of all the speciality of the cafe. Malfoy, to his credit, did not make a single comment about being in a Muggle cafe.

We engaged in light conversation as we sipped the red wine that had been served to us and enjoyed the performance of the live singers on the floor of the cafe. It was a joyous atmosphere that prevailed inside the establishment.

I ended up talking to Malfoy about the memories I had in this particular cafe – how the three of us used to frequent the place and how since the war this place had become the closest reminder of home for me. I did most of the talking for the evening – I blame it on the alcohol, though but I have to admit that this is the most I have spoken to a single person since I was kicked out by Ginny. 

“Christmas must have been a huge affair for you at the Manor?” I ended up asking.

“It was. Mother would spend days before Christmas decorating each room of the Manor for the Christmas Ball – it was the event of the year and everyone who was someone used to be invited to it. For Father though, it was a time for business opportunities and for making new contacts.”

“And for you?”

He smirked. “I got a lot of presents and received a lot of attention in these balls but I never really grew up to enjoy it. I think the only person who truly enjoyed them was Father – for entirely non-festive reasons. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to spend quieter, more intimate Christmas days.”

There had been a tone of wistfulness in his voice and I tried to put myself in his shoes – hard as it may be. I imagined cold, flamboyant Christmas parties held for business reasons and compared them to the homely affairs that I was used to attending at my place or that of the Weasley’s – there, really, was a lot that Malfoy had missed out on. I understood the man sitting before me a little better now, maybe.

We walked out of the cafe and headed back to the Apparation Point but there was something was one thing that I wanted to do, something that I had tried not to do for the last five years – visit the house of my childhood. 

“Malfoy, we should part here because I want to go visit my house once tonight.”

He stopped in his tracks and seemed to be hesitating.

“Have you visited it since...the war?”

“No,” I breathed.

He gulped, as if unsure about what he was about to say. “I’d like to accompany you if you don’t mind.”

That caught me off-guard. He was offering to visit with me, why? It was a thoughtful gesture I would admit but the moment would be too private to share with anyone – especially Malfoy.

“Thank you, but I have to do this alone.” I was hoping he would understand it.

He did. He nodded and turned to walk towards the Apparation Point. 

I started in the opposite direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you like this particular chapter and a review of this will be particularly helpful because this chapter denotes an important milestone in the story. Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Please write down your invaluable reviews because they will help me grow as a writer and aid me in improving the story as per your wishes. Saturdays are the days reserved for updates but they could come earlier in the week too! Toodles!


End file.
